The dining hall stretched long, oak furnishings from end to end and a vaulted ceiling expanded the spacious trappings yet the room shrank; the table in the DuPont manor dining hall the smallest it’d ever been. The DuPont banner hung behind Horus on the far wall, a sharp eyed falcon glowering overhead. Silver entertained himself with food at one end, the mages and lords seated around him sat in silence. Tension in the muggy air tightened around Khloe’s shoulders as she beheld a man, who wasn’t her brother, using his body. Her stomach soured as she watched his face smile and frown, more like a mask and less like a man. She glanced at her mother who eyed him with a strain in her face akin to if she’d pulled a cart laden with bricks, the cried through makeup around her eyes spotty. It was all the lady DuPont could do, not to belt a string of curses a mile long. Horus, though stoic, seemed to be having the same trouble.
Cornelius flipped through a small ledger mumbling over notes; bushy eyebrows knit together, a nervous Martin in the chair next to him. The younger mage couldn’t stop glancing up from his lap through his shaggy pale bangs at Anaiah and back down again, his hands clasped around his satchel strap. The servants rattled their way about the room. Etta and Lia who were hard at work making dinner before Silver emerged from the pyramid, dropped the full preparation at Silver’s say-so when he’d demanded food. Etta more terrified than the rest stuttered her instructions, unable to carry dishes without quivering so hard the contents toppled off. Lia came to her rescue in a bid to keep the poor woman on her feet. Khloe, who took up the seat next to her mother, couldn’t bear her household walking on eggshells. The Abyssian seated himself at the head of the table, in Horus’s chair while he waited for his meal. Silver being in her father’s place goaded Khloe’s ire. General Grumpy-Beard or not, you don’t deserve that place. She thought as Lia served his meal.
For a warlock who claimed not to have eaten real food in over a hundred years, his table manners were civil much to Khloe’s surprise. His posture perfect, elbows off the table, and he didn’t touch his food with his hands, using utensils like a man of noble bearing. He’d picked the meat off his pheasant from the gristle in no time at all and made short work of his asparagus, all the while seated with a napkin on his lap and a courtier’s mien.
“Funny, I thought you’d eat with all the grace of a dog.” Khloe said, shattering the silence. A heel jammed into Khloe’s foot and she glanced up at her mother seated beside her at the table who eyed Khloe with warning. Silver cracked a smile and dotted his mouth with his napkin before he spoke.
“You’re not the only person in the world expected to have manners, Khloe dearest. Regardless as to whether or not you use them.” He said as he picked at the meat on his plate. The storm rumbled lightning shocks flashing in the tall windows. The sun drifted to sleep behind the clouds dimming the room. Servants scrambled to light up the hall, a rickety Hubert trying to strike matches with his trembling boney fingers. Silver sighed. “Don’t waste your effort.” He said, lifting his hand and snapping his fingers. The light in the room sprang to life, every candle awake with fire. “In a room stuffed with mages, not one of us could snap his fingers and light candles?” he chided. Martin, seated next to Cornelius, reddened.
“M-Milord, mages can’t do anything i-in a lord’s house unless he asks.” The timid straw-haired boy uttered, eyes planted on his lap. Silver snorted.
“I’d forgotten I’d be among the dickless generation. Bowed heads and servile rubbish for those who are more deserving of the world than the crowned powerless ants they serve.” Silver leveled his burnish orange eyes on Horus.
“And make no mistake, you are ants.”
“This petty back and forth is getting us nowhere. Are you absolutely certain we can’t spare Anaiah, transfer you to another more willing host, a golem perhaps?” Cornelius pled, his glasses sliding down his nose. Silver pushed around the food on his plate with boredom.
“Don’t insult me with the offer of a golem; I’ve already told you, we cannot be separated.” He gave a long sigh, took a bite of his potatoes and grimaced. “I can only imagine the desperation of a man who finds a tuberous ground testicle and calls it food.”
“The all-powerful warlock hates potatoes?” Khloe snickered.
“They taste like dirt.” Etta standing stark by the door to the kitchen, jumped.
“I-I can find you something else, m’lord.” She said, eyes wild with fear. Silver glanced over his shoulder at her.
“Don’t trouble yourself. No amount of salt or garnish can make a dirt-fruit appetizing and that isn’t your fault.”
Silver’s eyes snapped forward to the far doorway at the opposite end of the room; his slitted pupils widened like a cat. Horus sat up taller in his chair, head following Silver’s line of sight.
“It’s impolite to eaves drop, little lady.” His alien voice echoed to the empty doorway. A little head poked around the corner, Adalie clasping the door frame.
“Adalie!” Horus sniped, startling her.
“Keep the bark down, old dog.” Silver said, standing from the table placing his napkin on his plate. “I have something that belongs to her.” Khloe jumped from her seat, fists clenched.
“You’re not going to touch her, my brother’s body or not I’ll dent your skull.” She yelled. Silver inhaled and let his breath out slow, regarding her with an impish smile.
“Entertaining as you are, technically I’d be committing theft if I kept this.” He raised his hand and an orange glowing figure danced out from behind him.
“Lopsy!” Adalie shouted, rushing across the room with her arms out. The rabbit doll tottered towards her, reaching out for its little girl. Khloe spun around and snatched Adalie up before she could go for her rabbit, the confused orange puppet putting its hands on its hips as it wobbled around Khloe’s ankles.
“No, Adalie. Don’t touch it.” Adalie kicked and wiggled in her big sister’s grasp.
“Lopsy saves you!” she yelled still squirming. “Lopsy isn’t bad!” Silver erupted into laughter, every candle flickering as it echoed throughout the hall.
“Horus, for a man who hates mages, you crank them out.” Horus glanced over to the struggling Adalie; a mask of concern covered his face.
Silver’s discerning eyes followed the magic circulatory system wrapped around her. Adalie’s magic field was too young to have accrued any rings but it bubbled with curiosity. There was a certain harmony to her magic that appeared manufactured, small tracings of gold made familiar swirls around her faint blue magic field like a shield, keeping it in line. The corners of Silver’s mouth curled into a smile. Like an older brother watching out for a little sister; Anaiah has been hiding you. Silver arched an eyebrow at her.
“A rather complicated little spell wrapped around your rabbit. Did you make it?” Adalie met eyes with Silver and stared at him, dipping her head in a modest nod. “Anaiah owes you his life, such as it is.” Adalie eyed him, unfazed by the amalgamation before her as only a child could be. She reached out her arm, Lopsy swirling up from the floor and into her grasp.
“When is Nainai coming back?” she asked as she clasped her rabbit tight to her chest. Silver pursed his lips.
“Whenever he wakes, I suppose.” Adalie gazed up at the ceiling searching her head for a response. She hummed and hawed for a moment.
“Okay.” She said. She inhaled a deep breath and shrieked at the top of her lungs, her voice rattling the room. Khloe gritted her teeth in an effort to hold onto her sister.
“Nainai, it’s time to get up!” Silver recoiled clapping his hands over his ears.
Her voice clanged through his mind, a great bell echoing through the mindscape, vibrating the constructed world with its resonance. Silver scrunched up his face as it crashed through his head wreaking havoc.
“That’s a dirty trick.” He hissed as he squinted against the throbbing in his skull. Cornelius jumped to a stand beside Khloe, a startled Martin scooting his chair back. Silver bent to one knee, the pressure in his head increasing.
“Stand back.” Cornelius said as he leapt before the girls, ushering them behind him. Silver’s demon eyes narrowed on the grey cloaked mage and he bore his sharp teeth with a snarl. Cornelius stretched his hand toward Silver’s face, a golden light emerging from his palm in time with mutterings.
“Push me back all you want, Cornelius; death still marches.” The light from Cornelius’s palm brightened, a strangled gasp escaping Anaiah’s body. He reeled back as though an invisible tether wrapped about his neck, hands over his head he toppled to the ground with a thud.
Anaiah curled into a ball on his side and buried his head in his arms. Cornelius backed off the spell and knelt down next to Anaiah placing a careful hand on the lad’s side. Adalie kicked her feet and wriggled from her sister’s grasp.
“Addie, stop it!” Khloe grasped at her baby sister’s arm, the child twisting out of her reach. Khloe stumbled after her as Adalie plonked herself down on the floor next to Anaiah’s head. She planted Lopsy’s face on Anaiah’s temple and made a kiss sound.
“It’s time to get up so Lopsy makes it better.” She chirped. Anaiah uncoiled himself, tears running down his face as he angled his head to look at his baby sister. “Oh no,” She gasped. “Your eye is broken like Koko’s.” she frowned. She planted Lopsy’s nose on Anaiah’s face and made another kissing sound. “There, that’s how mommy fixes it too.”
“Thank you, Addie.” Anaiah managed through shallow breaths. Lady DuPont made a cautious approach from around the table, her footsteps inaudible against the rumbling summer storm. Cornelius grasped Anaiah by the arm.
“Let me help you to your feet, son.” Anaiah recoiled.
“Please Cornelius, don’t touch me.” He creaked. “Everything hurts.” Cornelius retracted his hand.
“I understand.” Anaiah pushed himself up into a sitting position on the floor, each motion laborious.
“My son?” Laurel hazarded one hand clasped over her heart, the other on the table. Anaiah turned his now mismatched eyes towards his mother. The eye blotted with grey skin that of Silver’s, whereas Anaiah’s right eye remained his own. His lower lip trembled.
“I-I’m sorry, mother.” He broke. The warped ability to see magic flow with his left eye while his vision remained normal in the right dizzied Anaiah, his stomach turned over. He grasped his head in an attempt to steady the swirling hall.
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